The Soccer Mom Robberies
by dakFinv
Summary: Some unusual thieves are stealing some unusual things. Can are boys solve this puzzle in time? Please r&r!
1. Teaser

Disclaimers: I don't own "The Invisible Man" or any aspect of it. I am not involved with the show in anyway, except that I happen to be an avid fan. Don't sue me. I don't have any money anyway. I just do this for fun.  
  
Spoilers: None that I can think of right now, but if I come across any I'll be sure to let you know ahead of time.  
  
Quick Note: I decided to set-up this fic like an episode would be. So, it is split up into five parts: teaser, act 1, act 2, act 3, and tag. Okay, I don't know if they're really called acts or not, but I think you get the point. Please read and review!! I love reviews! They're food for my soul!  
  
All right, let the story begin!!  
  
Teaser:  
  
It is a beautiful, quiet, night on the outskirts San Diego. The stars are shining and there is a cool breeze blowing through the town.   
  
*RING* *RING* *RING* *RING*   
  
The serenity of the night is quickly interrupted by the sound of the Chadwell Research Company's alarm system. A woman, dressed in khaki pants, a nice, pink button down shirt, and a cream sweater tied around her neck quickly walks, but does not run, away from the Chadwell building carrying some sort of large cube shaped object. At the curb of the sidewalk she purposely drops a small, flat piece of metal. She then hurries over to a nearby green, Plymouth mini-van. Unlocking the van, she loads the object inside and slams the sliding door shut. She then quickly hops into the driver's seat and speeds off into the night, tires screeching. A minute later, police arrive on the scene. As they begin to infilitrate the building, the deputy in charge notices the piece of metal. He bends over with his flashlight to get a closer look at it, careful not to disturb the crime scene. As he begins to make out what it is his look of confusion, turns to a look of frustration.  
  
"Hey, Brians!" he shouts out, "Get over here and look at this!"  
  
"What is Rennolds?" shouts Brians as he hurries over.  
  
Deputy Rennolds just points to the piece of metal. Brians immediately recognizes it.  
  
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Brians cries out, "This is the third time this week!"  
  
"Tell me about it," Rennolds sighs, "I think we're gonna have to call in some feds or something to check this case out. It has to be all related and we're just not equipped to investigate something like this."  
  
"I'll get the call in first thing, Rennolds."  
  
Rennolds just nods and shakes his head.  
  
'What in the world is going on?' he thinks to himself.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Indeed. What is going on? Well, if you think this is a case for our favorite underfunded Agency please let me know, and I'll continue. PLEASE REVIEW!!  
  
TBC??? 


	2. Act One

Thanks for the feedback! On with the second part! Oh, and by the way, this story takes place sometime in the second season before things started going crazy with the counteragent. All right, enjoy!  
  
~~~~~  
Act 1  
  
"It's crap."  
  
"What are you talking about? This thing is state of the art!"  
  
"Sorry partner, but you just wasted a lot of money on a pile of crap. Don't you know those things kill you mind?"  
  
"NO, biosynthetic glands kill your mind. This is recreation."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
Darien busied himself with opening up the package containing his brand-new Playstation 2. Hobbes on the other hand simply leaned in a corner of Darien's apartment, sighing and shrugging his shoulders. After a few minutes of fighting with packaging tape and styrofoam, Darien was finaly able to get his new prize out of the box. He beamed with joy as he stared at his new toy.  
  
"Hey, why don't ya make yourself useful and give me a hand here."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Hobbes meandered over to his partner's side. He shook his mournfully and looked over the pieces.  
  
"I just still can't believe you wasted the Official's bonus on this. You do realize that the next time we ask him for a bonus we're gonna have to pry it from his cold dead hands."  
  
Darien laughed at the serious expression on his partner's face. The laughter caused Hobbes to turn and face Darien with an angry expression.  
  
"What? What's so funny?"  
  
"You! You're acting like this thing is some sort of terrorist...contraption or something."  
  
"Oooo, 'contraption'. I didn't know you knew such big words. Must be some left-over Kevin RNA."  
  
"Ha. You are so funny Hobbes. Listen, you spend your money the way you want to, and I'll spend mine the way I want to. NOw help me hook this thing up."  
  
  
"Fine. Geez, they have so many cables and plugs with this, how are you supposed to know what goes where?"  
  
"Uh, I think there's an instruction book here somewhere."  
  
Darien rifled through the plastic wrap and packaging before finally locating the important packet.   
  
"Aha! Here it si, Let's see...," Darien started skimming the table of contents, "'How to Install Your New Gaming System, page 14'."  
  
Darien flipped through the pages and scanned the instructions.  
  
"Well, it sounds easy enough. Shall we begin?"  
  
Three hours and several curses later, it was finished. Although the Playstation itself was nicely placed on Darien's coffee table, all neat and organized, the rest of his apartment was not so lucky.  
  
"Okay, I think we've finally got it," Darien sighed.  
  
He leaned over from his position on his couch and hit the on button. The television screen went blurry.  
  
"Crap!" he shouted.  
  
"Wait, partner, I think it's supposed to be on channel 4," Hobbes switched stations.  
  
The screen showed the Playstation 2 logo.  
  
"Eureka!" Darien shouted, "I knew I asked you over for a reason Hobbes."  
  
"Thanks, Fawksey," Hobbes rolled his eyes.  
  
"Now, the only game I have to play is whatever is on the demo disc. Let's check it out!"  
  
Darien was just about to put the disc in when Hobbes' cell phone rang.  
  
"Hobbes...Yes, sir... Of course, sir...We'll be right in Chief."  
  
Hobbes turned and looked at Darien.  
  
"Oh, no. He does not want us to come in," Darien whined.  
  
Hobbes started moving towards the door, "Let's go amigo."  
  
"But, it's Saturday! Can't he let us rest for even one day!"  
  
"Crime never rests, my friend. Come on, I'll drive."  
~~~~~  
  
"Sorry to call you in a Saturday, but..."  
  
"Sorry my a..."  
  
"...but," The Official was quick to cut of Darien's comment, "we have just been given a very important case. Eberts!"  
  
Eberts handed Darien and Hobbes files on the new case and continued with an explanation.  
  
"It seems that over the past week there have been three robberies at three different research companies in the San Diego area, Lexcom International, Virgil Research Institute, and the most recent Chadwell Research."  
  
"So what makes the case so important that we got it? Someone gonna make a bomb outta what was stolen or something?" Darien asked, almost sarcastically.  
  
"The objects stolen do not seem to combine to anything lethal, yet," Eberts stated, "However we do know they are connected because of this."  
  
Eberts handed a small, flat piece of metal to Hobbes.  
  
"This has been found at each of the crime scenes upon police arrival. It seems to be some sort of calling card for the criminal."  
  
"Someone's trying to brag about the thefts," Darien said unenthusiastically, "He thinks he did such a good job that the cops will never find him, so he leaves this metal thingy behind to give them a little clue and to try to tease them"  
  
"Now you're thinking like an agent, partner," Hobbes smiled, "So, do we have anything on what this guy looks like?"  
  
"Well,uh," Eberts said, "that is another reason this case is so...unusual. The security cameras at all three locations were disabled and authorities were not able to pick up anything on the first two robberies. At the last location, however, there was one outdoor security monitor that was not disconnected and we were able to get this image."  
  
Eberts handed Darien a photograph of woman, dressed in khaki pants, a nice, pink button down shirt, and a cream sweater tied around her neck, carrying a large, cube-shaped, object.   
  
"This doesn't look like a thief. It looks more like Martha Stewart!" Darien remarked.  
  
"She's been identified as Mrs. Jane Ryan. Her address is printed on page two of the case file. She is a 35 year-old housewife, mother of two, married for 12 years to a Mr. Robert Ryan, who is employed at California Communications as a manager of the services department."  
  
"Okay, so why would Betty Crocker here start stealing from scientific research companies?" Hobbes asked, almost to himself.  
  
"Maybe she's trying to build a better Easy Bake Oven," Darien replied.  
  
"Mrs. Ryan and her vehicle have been reported missing since Friday night," the Official barked,"Her family knows nothing about her involvement in these robberies. I suggest you keep it that way," he warned, "I want you two to get started ASAP!"  
  
"Yes,sir," Hobbes and Darien said in unison and they shuffled out the door.  
~~~~  
  
The old, tan van pulled up in front of a small, yet beautiful, fifties style house, which was located in what Darien called "Suburbia".  
  
"Okay, 713 Willow Drive. This is the place," Hobbes said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Are you sure, this time? We've been driving around this place for 3 hours trying to find this house."  
  
"Well, if they wouldn't all build these houses to look the same, we wouldn't be having this problem would we?"  
  
Darien just shrugged.  
  
"All right then. Let's go. Make sure you lock your door."  
  
The men stepped out of the van.  
  
"Hobbes, why do we lock the doors on that thing anyway? I mean, I think it would be a lot better if we just let that thing get stolen?"  
  
"What? Never! Golda and I have been through a lot together and would not let her just get stolen just so the Official would get me a new van. She means a lot to me Fawkes."  
  
"Okay, okay," Darien smiled, "just asking."  
  
Hobbes mumbled something under his breath and then went to knock on the door. Darien stopped him.  
  
"Uh, don't you think this guy is gonna think it's really weird that the Bureau of Weights and Measures is investigating his wife's disappearance."  
  
"Heh, I'll think of something."  
  
*KNOCK**KNOCK**KNOCK*  
  
A 5'7", slightly balding man, in his late-thirties quickly answered the door.  
  
"Hello, sir. My name is Agent Robert Hobbes and this is my partner Agent Darien Fawkes. We're here..."  
  
"Are you here about Jane? Please come in!"  
  
'That was easy,' Darien thought to himself.  
  
"Ha-Have a seat. Would you like anything? Some co-coffee, water, soda, anything?"  
  
"No thank you, sir," Hobbes replied.   
  
"I just bought some Vanilla Coke. I don't care for it much, but the kids and Jane...and Jane," the man started to tear up.  
  
"It's all right Mr. Ryan," Hobbes comforted the man.  
  
"Mr. Ryan, when was the last time you saw your wife?" Darien asked, eager to get this inquiry done as fast as possible.  
  
"Uhm, well, let me think."  
  
"It's okay, just take your time," Hobbes smiled.   
  
Hobbes was much more patient when it came to interviewing witness and the like.  
  
"Well, I guess it was Friday morning. I woke up and got a shower. When I was done, Jane," the man teared up at the mention of his wife's name, "well, Jane was already downstairs making breakfast for me and the kids, like she always is. Scrambled eggs, I think. Then I had to hurry off to work for a meeting. I guess that's the last time..." his voiced trailed off.  
  
"Mr. Ryan, do you know what your wife was planning on doing that day?"   
'Besides planning to rob a multi-million dollar research corporation,' Darien thought.  
  
"Uhm, uh, well..." he paused for a few seconds, "Oh! I remember. She was going off to take our son to spend his birthday money, after school, of course. Then she was just going to stay home with the kids, like normal."  
  
"Did you see her when you got home from work?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"No, I-I had to work late, I've had to all this week, work late I mean, and I didn't get home until about midnight. I was so tired that I just wanted to crawl into bed. But, when I got home I noticed that her car, a green Plymouth mini-van, well it wasn't in the garage. I ran through the house looking for her, for a note, for anything. I checked on the kids to see if maybe she had to take them to the hospital or something, but they were both there. I just...I just don't know what could have happened to her!" Mr. Ryan started to cry, again.  
  
The grown man was completely bawling. Darien and Hobbes just looked at each other for a second.  
  
"Uhm, Mr. Ryan?"  
  
*sniffle* "Yes, Agent Fawkes?"  
  
"About your kids? Did they say anything about your wife being gone? Do you know if they heard anything?"  
  
"My eldest, my son, he said that J-Jane woke him up and told him that she had to run an errand. That's all I know."  
  
"Do you mind if we talk to your son?"  
  
"Uh, sure. He's in his room. I'll take you there."  
  
"What about your other child? Do you mind if we talk to her too?"  
  
"N-no Agent Hobbes. Not at all. Anything to find her."  
  
"Hey, how about I talk to your son, and Agent Hobbes can talk to your daughter? Just so they don't get to scared with two government agents or something."  
  
"Uhm, yes. Thank you Agent Fawkes. Agent Hobbes this is my daughter's room. Her name is Cynthia."  
  
"Thank you Mr. Ryan."  
  
Hobbes went in to talk to the six year old girl.  
  
"Agent Fawkes, my son's room is right here. His name is Kevin."  
  
An ounce of pain shot through Darien. It had been over a year since his brother died, but still, any mention of his name, even when not referring to Kevin Fawkes, still hurt.  
  
"He's nine years old."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Darien stepped in the room. It was a typical nine year old boys room. There were posters of baseball players and football players and soccer players, GI Joe's and Hot Wheels spread across the floor. The boy himself was sitting in front of a small television set playing some video game.  
  
"Hey Kevin. My name's Darien. I'm a federal agent. Mind if talk to you about your mom for a second."  
  
The federal agent line always seemed to impress the younger kids.  
  
"Darien's a dorky name," Kevin answered, and he continued to play his game.  
  
"Okay, so it is. You can call me Fawkes then."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"So, whatcha playing?"  
  
"NASCAR Thunder 2002."  
  
"Cool, have you had that game awhile? You seem to be pretty good at it."  
  
"Well, I've had the game for a little, but I just got my Playstation 2 yesterday. You can play old Playstation games on the system."  
  
"Playstation 2, huh? I just got one myself. Hey, is that what you and your mom went to buy yesterday?"  
  
"Yeah, I got it with my birthday money. My mom helped me set it all up yesterday, too."  
  
"When was the last time you saw your mom, Kevin?"  
  
"Uh, last night. She woke me up to tell me she had to run an errand or something."  
  
"Do you know what time it was?"  
  
"No, but it was after my bedtime."  
  
"When's your bedtime?"  
  
"9 O'clock."  
  
Darien had a feeling that this was all the kid knew. He decided to wrap up his conversation.  
  
"Well, thanks a lot Kevin. You've been a big help. We're gonna find your mom, okay?"  
  
"Okay, thanks."  
  
Kevin went right on playing his video game. He met Hobbes in the all, standing with Mr. Ryan.  
  
"I think that's about all," Darien said.  
  
"Thank you for your help Mr. Ryan. And trust us, we're going to do everything in our power to find your wife."  
  
'And then convict of her felony theft,' Darien thought.  
  
"Thank you, thank you very much. You'll be in touch then?"  
  
"Yes, sir. And if you hear anything or think of anything else, just give me a call at this number."  
  
Hobbes handed Mr. Ryan his card. The three said their good-byes and Darien and Hobbes headed back to the van.  
  
"So, what did the kid tell ya?"  
  
"Same thing Mr. Ryan said he said. Mom left for an errand sometime after his 9 O'clock bedtime."  
  
"The case file said that that picture of Mrs. Ryan was taken at around 2 am. Which means that sometime between 9 and 12 our little housewife left her Betty Crocker abode, and then went to steal some high priced baking equipment."  
  
The men loaded themselves into the vehicle and started to pull away.  
  
"Didn't Eberts say that this was the third burglary like this, this past week?" Darien asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah, and?"  
  
"Well, Mr. Ryan didn't say anything about his wife being gone any other day."  
  
"So, maybe Jane didn't rob all three places."  
  
"Which means, that this could be some sort of housewife conspiracy or something."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"That's some big craziness there, my friend."  
  
"Very big, Fawkes. Very big. All right, I'll have Eberts do some computer magic and try to find out if any other weird disappearances have been going on."  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me."  
  
"You must always have a plan, Fawkesy. Always."  
  
"Exactly right my man. And I think my plan for the rest of the day is to go home and enjoy the rest of my Saturday in peace. Leave the rest of today's work for Eberts right?"  
  
"That, my friend, sounds like a very good plan."  
  
Hobbes dropped Darien off at his apartment at 6pm. The lanky agent wearily climbed the stairs to his flat and plopped down on the couch. He wasn't sure quite what to do with the rest of his day, until he noticed his Playstation.  
  
"Aha! Alone at last, but still only the demo disc. Ah, well, gotta get warmed up anyway."  
  
Darien popped the disc in, sat through a parental warning about the reasons why you shouldn't buy younger kids the more violent video games, and then tested out each demo on the disc. A few hours later Fawkes decided it was time to put himself to bed. He fell asleep dreaming of all the video games he couldn't wait to spend his money on.  
~~~~~  
TBC  
Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!! Please let me know how you think this is coming along! Thanks a bunch!! 


	3. Act Two

Thanks again for the feedback! I really appreciate it! On with Act 2! And I just realized that Vanilla Coke wasn't out yet during the timeline I set this story in, but hey, just use your imaginations!  
~~~~~~  
Act 2  
  
*BANG**BANG**BANG*  
  
"Come on Fawkes! Rise 'n' Shine!"  
  
Darien was suddenly woken by a loud banging on his apartment door. Dazed and confused he rolled out of bed (literally), picked himself up off the floor and opened the door.  
  
"Hobbes, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Hurry and clean yourself up," Hobbes said as he walked into the apartment and helped himself to some juice from the refrigerator.  
  
"Uh, why?"  
  
"Why? Because, my friend, today is the start of a beautiful, glorious Monday, and you already missed our meeting with the Official. Needless to say he was less than happy at that so I made up a story that you were with the Keeper, getting examined or whatever it is she does to you down there, and told him that I would just get you on our way out."  
  
Hobbes took a drink of juice and then stared at Darien.  
  
"Why aren't you moving? Come on, we're gonna be late!"  
  
Darien was still standing by his apartment door, holding onto the doorknob with the door still open, and staring at Hobbes with a completely incoherant look on his face.  
  
"Wait, it's Monday? Bobby, have you taken your pills today?"  
  
"Of course I have," he said proudly,"and yes it is Monday because that is the day that comes after Sunday and before Tuesday."  
  
"Are you sure? It can't be. What happened to my Sunday?"  
  
"I have no idea, kid, but by the looks of yourself you probably slept right through it. Now, come on, we've gotta get movin'."  
  
Still slightly confused, Darien closed his door and headed to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and put five different kinds of gel in his hair. He then walked to his closet to find some fresh clothes. From his closet he called out to Hobbes.  
  
"Hey, where are we going anyway?"  
  
"Back to the Ryan's house. Our little soccer mom thief came home."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Yep. Gotta call from Mr. Ryan this morning, right in the middle of the Fat Man's daily speech. Said he woke yesterday morning and she was right there in bed, acting like nothing had happened."  
  
Darien emerged from his closet wearing a pair of brown slacks and his favorite orange shirt. He grabbed his tan, leather jacket and headed for the door.  
  
"Well, Hobbesy, let's go see what little miss housewife was up to last week."  
  
The two men exited the apartment.  
~~~~  
  
"I can't believe you got us lost in Suburbia, again."  
  
"It's not my fault. These developments need, like, little kiosks or something so that you can figure out where you're going."  
  
"Kiosks?"  
  
"Ya know, those little sign board thingies they have at malls and stuff with info and the maps that say 'you are here'?"  
  
"Those are called kiosks? Uh, I guess you do learn something new everyday. Oh wait, here we go, Willow Drive. Make a right here."  
  
Hobbes sharply turned the van, almost tipping it.  
  
"Holy crap Hobbes! Are you trying to get us killed here?"  
  
"It's not my fault; it's the frickin' van. Steering's all out of whack. Fat Man doesn't pay enough to get this thing fixed."  
  
"Yet, instead of letting it get stolen, and then getting a new one, you insist that we lock the doors and call it Golda?"  
  
"I never said she was perfect Fawkes, but she's still my van."  
  
"Whatever. Okay, slow down, we're almost there. 719, 717, 715, 713! Pull her over."  
  
Hobbes gently pulled Golda over to the curb.  
  
"All right sweetheart. That's a good van," he whispered as he shut off the engine.  
  
"Give me a break," Darien mumbled as he got out of the van and slammed the door.  
  
"You locked it, right?"  
  
Darien just kept walking towards the Ryan's house.  
  
"Fawkes, I'm serious, is the van locked on your side?"  
  
Still, Darien remained silent. He knocked on the Ryan's front door.  
  
"Come on, Fawkes. Just tell me if you locked it or not. What's the big deal? Just say you locked..."  
  
The door swung open. Mr. Ryan stood in doorway, a huge smile covering his face.  
  
"Agent Hobbes! Agent Fawkes!" He shook their hands,"It is so good to see you again! Please come inside. I took off work today to stay home with Jane. Can I offering you anything? Coffee, water, Vanilla Coke?"  
  
"No, thank you Mr. Ryan. We're just glad to see that you're doing better. In fact that's kind of why we're here. We'd like to talk to your wife, if that's all right."  
  
"Yes, of course. Right this way."  
  
Mr. Ryan led them into the kitchen where his wife was busy doing the dishes from the morning's breakfast.  
  
"Jane? These are Agents Hobbes and Fawkes. They are the agents looking into your case."  
  
Mrs. Jane Ryan turned and smiled at the men. Sure enough, it was the woman from the surveilance photo, only she was wearing a different outfit.  
  
"Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hands but," she laughed and pointed to the wet, yellow, rubber gloves she was wearing.  
  
"That's perfectly all right, ma'am," Hobbes smiled back,"We just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."  
  
"Oh, of course! I'm just as eager as you to figure out what happened."  
  
"What do you mean?" Darien asked.  
  
"Well the strange thing is Agent Fawkes, I don't remember anything!"  
  
"Really? Well that's strange. Mrs. Ryan what is the last thing you remember, before your disappearance?"  
  
"Well, Agent Hobbes, I guess I went missing on Friday, right?"  
  
Hobbes nodded.  
  
"Uhm, on Friday I did my normal chores-cook breakfast, clean up, pick the kids up from school-Then I took Kevin and Cynthia to the mall. Kevin really wanted to spend some of his birthday money. He got one of those new Playstations. He's such a sweetheart! Well, anyway, I helped him set it up, and then went to do some more chores. The next thing I know I'm waking up in bed and it's Sunday morning!"  
  
"Mr. Ryan, if Jane came home Sunday why did you wait a day to contact us?" Hobbes inquired.  
  
"Well, I was so excited to see Jane home I could barely speak and then we went to church, and I was going to call you after church, Agent Hobbes, but then I couldn't find the card you gave me until late last night, so I figured it was best to just call you first thing this morning."  
  
"I see," Hobbes replied as he nodded his head.  
  
"Is that all you remember, Mrs. Ryan?"  
  
"I'm afraid so, Agent Fawkes, but if I think of anything else I'll call you right away."  
  
"Thank you two for your time. If we come up with anything we'll let you know."  
  
"Thank you Agent Hobbes, Agent Fawkes."  
  
Darien and Hobbes shook hands with Mr. Ryan, waved good-bye to the Mrs. and headed back to the van. They hopped in and started driving to the Agency.  
  
"So, when do we arrest her Hobbesy?"  
  
"As soon as we figure out what happened."  
  
"Do you believe any of what they said? I mean, they did seem pretty legit."  
  
"The husband does, but, the wife. I mean how could you commit a felony and not know it?"  
  
Before Darien could answer Hobbes' question, Bobby's cell phone rang.  
  
"This is Hobbes...What?!...Where?!...You're kidding me?!...I know you're not kidding me, Eeeeberts, it's just an expression...More news?...Oh really...All right. We'll head over there first."  
  
"What? What is it?"  
  
"There's been another robbery."  
  
"What? Where? You're kidding me!"  
  
"That's what I said. Took place Saturday night. Centaur Scientific Research Company, outskirts of San Diego. Eberts says surveilance hasn't pulled up anything yet, but, some good news. He did do his homework this weekend and found out some interesting things that might be useful to solving this case."  
  
"Oh really, and what would that be."  
  
"Thing 1: Those little plates of metal, ya know, the ones dropped at each crime scene, are some sort of special new metal, manufactured at only one place-Lexcom International. "  
  
"The place where the first robbery happened."  
  
"Yup. That's where we're headed now. The research on that metal is headed by a Dr. Paul Ford."  
  
"Shouldn't we head to the freshest crime scene first?"  
  
"Still too many news cameras there right now. Some reporter got wind of how the first three robberies were connected and now the fourth place is swarmed. Being bombarded by a thousand reporters is not something I really wanna encounter on a Monday morning."  
  
"Makes sense."  
  
"Now, Thing 2: All of the crap being stolen, it's useless junk."  
  
"Useless junk, how?"  
  
"First thing stolen, a computer monitor. Useless. Everyone knows the hard-drive is where files and stuff are stored. Second thing: A large picture taken out of the CEO's office. Not even one that's worth a lot of money. Third thing: Mrs. Jane Ryan back there stole a tv. Centaur hasn't released what was stolen from them yet, but my guess is it's a desk lamp or something."  
  
"So, whoa, wait a sec. Now why would someone bother to steal this crap?"  
  
"Maybe it's not the crap that's important, but..."  
  
"...but the fact that is able to be stolen, without leaving a trace."  
  
"Exactly, my friend. Seems to me like our pal is just testing what she can do."   
  
"She? You mean Jane."  
  
"Right again. Maybe she did hit the first two places and..."  
  
"...and the reason that she went missing Friday night was because she was gonna hit the second place the next night anyway. When were the first two robberies again?"  
  
"Lexcom was hit Sunday night last week, Virgil Wednesday, and then Chadwell Friday."  
  
"So, the first three were far enough part so that she could've stored the junk and been back home with time to plan until the next one. Except..."  
  
"...Except for this last one because it the day after the third one."  
  
"So, she hits Lexcom the first night, right, and takes some of those metal thingies so that she can leave one at each crime scene."  
  
"You're thinking like an agent again, partner. I must be doing something right."  
  
"So, when do you think we should arrest her now, Hobbesy?"  
  
"I'm thinking that she thinks that we think she's innocent, so she thinks she's in the clear. I think we should let her think that and when she goes out for another little late night soccer practice we nab her and then she'll realize that what she was thinking we were thinking wasn't what we were thinking. What do you think?"  
  
"I think we've gotta plan."  
~~~~~  
  
"Hello. I'm Agent Hobbes and this is Agent Fawkes. We are the agents that were assigned to your case and were just wondering if we could ask Dr. Ford a few questions."  
  
"You guys are with the Bureau of Weights and Measures?" asked the receptionist at Lexcom, looking closely at the two men's badges.  
  
"Yes, you see..." Darien started.  
  
"Whatever. Dr. Ford's office is on the fourth floor. Here are two visitor's passes. He should be there right now."  
  
"Uh, thank you," Darien replied,"That was easy, again," he said to Hobbes.  
~~~~~~  
  
Darien and Hobbes approached Dr. Ford's office and knocked.  
  
"Come in!" shouted a voice from the inside.  
  
"Thank you, Trevor, and I'll need those new reports by tomorrow morning."  
  
"Yes, sir," said a meek, young man in front of Dr. Ford's desk.  
  
Trevor smiled weakly at Darien and Hobbes as he left the office.  
  
"Can I help you?" Dr. Ford asked.  
  
He was a middle-aged man with a full head of gray hair. He wore a large pair of glasses that made his eyes look twice the size that they actually were.  
  
"Dr. Ford, My name is Agent Hobbes, this is my partner, Agent Fawkes. We were assigned to your case."  
  
"That would be my company's case, Agent Hobbes. I don't believe anything of mine was stolen."  
  
"Actually," Darien said,"you might be wrong."  
  
"Excuse me?" the doctor asked.  
  
"Doctor," Hobbes continued, "are you aware that at every crime scene a small piece of metal was found."  
  
"Yes, I-I do think I heard that on the news."  
  
"Well, our agency traced tested that metal and it turns out that it's metal from you're in charge of researching."  
  
"Are you kidding me?"  
  
"I'm afraid not, sir," Darien said.  
  
"Well, of course then, if it was tested, it's my metal. I'm the only one doing in the whole world that has that new metal. I created itactually, but the strange thing is, is that I do my inventory every day. I did an exceptionally thorough check the day after the robbery and it was all accounted for according to my inventory list."  
  
"Could the inventory list have been altered by someone?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"No, not possible. It's stored on my computer only. I'm the only one who has access to it, in case of a situation like this. How could anyone steal my metal! And then, just throw it on the ground like it was a piece of trash! It's absurd!"  
  
Dr. Ford began to get very excited.  
  
"It's all right, Dr. Ford. As soon as the case is closed, we can give you back your metal."  
  
"Thank you, Agent Hobbes," the agitated man started to calm down,"Is there anything else I can do for you?"  
  
"Just give me a call at this number," Hobbes handed him his card,"if you think of anything else, or if something turns up."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Thank you, Dr. Ford," Darien said.  
  
Darien and Hobbes left the office.  
  
"Make sure you get a good layout of the place Fawkes," Hobbes whispered to his partner as they were leaving the building.  
  
"Uh, why?"  
  
"You might have to do a little invisible recon later,"  
  
"Gotcha," Darien agreed.  
  
They left the building and decided that most of the camera crews at Centaur were gone by now.  
  
As they arrived on the scene, all that was left were a few cop cars and one television crew that was almost packed up and ready to go.  
  
Darien and Hobbes flashed their badges and asked a young cop where they could find the guy in charge. The man pointed to another cop who was standing at the front door of the Centaur complex.  
  
"Sgt. Brians?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Yes, that's me."  
  
"I'm Agent Hobbes..."  
  
"...Agent Fawkes."  
  
"We're the feds that were assigned to these robberies."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, unfortunately I wish it could have been under less confusing circumstances."  
  
"Have the surveilances cameras turned up anything?"  
  
"'Fraid not Agent Hobbes. This place has the same M.O. as the other three-some phones and a lamp were taken, and the piece of metal was found-but this, well it just as more of a professional feel to it. I don't know if the person doing it is just getting better at their job, but..."  
  
"What do you mean, a more professional feel?" Darien asked.  
  
"Well, security cameras weren't just disconnected, they were put on a loop. The locks aren't even damaged this time, and there was no alarm sounded."  
  
"So I guess there's nothing on the tapes?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Nope, not a thing. We've only found one piece of evidence at this place."  
  
"Where's that?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Down here. I'll show you."  
  
The three men walked down the sidewalk in front of the Centaur building until they reached the first street light.   
  
"We haven't been able to get our CSI people out here yet to identify it, but I've never seen anything like it," Brians said as he shook his head.  
  
Darien and Hobbes bent over to get a closer look at what Brians was pointing out. They looked at each other and then got on their knees to get a closer look. As they peered down even further they were both taken aback when they realized what it was. Hobbes stared at Darien. Darien stared at Hobbes.  
  
What they saw on the ground were flakes of quicksilver.  
~~~~~~~  
Uh-oh! What's going on? Want to read more? Then please review and I might put up the next act, and if you don't review I might keep the answer all to myself! Mua-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-*cough**hack**cough*.  
  
TBC... 


End file.
